


Still working on it

by MakeYourParadise



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), F/M, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-10-06 02:49:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20499629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakeYourParadise/pseuds/MakeYourParadise
Summary: In Siberia, Tony realizes that maybe he's not cut out for the whole hero thing.





	1. Chapter 1

Iron Man was dead.

Tony Stark was still very much alive. But Iron Man?

There was no such thing anymore.

It was strange. He had spent so long convincing people that him and Iron Man were _one_. The same. Could not be separated.

But he knew better now.

Iron Man had been a pathetic attempt to make up for destruction that shouldn’t have been happening in the first place. To trick himself into believing that he saved more people than he had hurt.

That’s what he had been chasing with the Accords. Another way to feel secure in his ability as a “hero”. God, who was he kidding?

Steve had known from the first time they met. He was no hero.

It had all hit him like a truck in Siberia. The final moments of his parents’ lives were playing out in front of him, and the anger that was brewing in him was a red flag.

It wasn’t the anger itself, but rather, the fact that it was directed at Bucky.

He _knew_ Bucky had been being brainwashed. He _knew_ that there were people out there who wanted the Avengers broken up. And he was so ready to deliver because…because why? He couldn’t control his feelings? Because he had been lied to again?

He should’ve been used to it. People have been trying to use him for pretty much his whole life. From the people that kidnapped him to Obadiah Stane. And there he was, still susceptible to being turned into a tool. Into a machine that people could use how they wanted.

A hero would be level headed. Collected. And in that moment, Tony had realized that he was anything but. When Tony had signed the awards, he did so because he _wanted_ someone telling him what to do. He needed direction, because he couldn’t trust his own instincts.

If he couldn’t trust his own judgement, how could he possibly be a hero?

He had met Steve’s eyes, so ice blue. So sure, so determined.

Those were the eyes of a hero. The same eyes of the man his father had idealized. Someone who was ready to fight for what was right. Who _knew _what was right.

Tony turned to the now dark screen and saw his own eyes. The difference was clear. Unsure, scared. Lost.

He had turned and flew away.

A couple miles later, his chest felt like it was burning. Like he couldn’t get enough air. He half landed-half crashed to the ground. He needed the suit off, right that second. It began to disassemble, but it wasn’t moving fast enough. He began clawing it off, ignoring the horrid sound of metal grating against itself. He ripped off the faceplate and heaved in large, gasping breaths. Even though technically, the air wasn’t any different, the world without the suit felt far less harsh.

He had sat back on his heels, hardly blinking an eye at the wrecked remains of his suit. His face was wet from tears he wasn’t aware of shedding and his heart was hammering away. But every second outside of his suit felt…relieving.

For so long, his suit had been his place of solace. Whenever the media had been too much, or when certain projects weren’t coming together the way he wanted to, or when Pepper….

The suit and the open air had been able to comfort him in ways that no one else could. But the idea of putting it back on made his skin crawl. He didn’t want it anymore. He looked at the faceplate still in his hands, considering it for a second.

Then he cranked his arm back and flung it as far as he could.

For the first time, he didn’t feel like Iron Man.


	2. Chapter 2

A private helicopter later, Tony stared at all the Marks of the suits that he had in his workshop.

Usually, they made him itch with excitement. Ideas would race through his head about what he could do or how he could improve them. But, all he was left with was a cold, heavy feeling.

He was talking before he was even aware of it.

“FRIDAY, destroy them all.”

“Sir?”

Who knew an AI could sound taken aback?

“I want them all gone.”

“Even the one being restored, sir?”

Tony paused. There was nothing special about the suit. It had just gotten a little scratched up and he had wanted to fix it.

The fact that his limbs felt like lead looking at the suits was something he wanted to remember. Every time he started feeling like a hero, he needed something to remind him that he wasn’t one.

“Just disassemble that one and display the parts. Everything else can go.”

He left the workshop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the chapters will get longer eventually!


	3. Chapter 3

Steve tried to call him a week or so later. It was probably over the fact that every major media outlet was covering the fact that Iron Man and Tony Stark had not made an appearance in a while.

For once, Tony appreciated that they referred to him separately.

Tony didn’t pick up the phone that time, or the few times after that.

Even though Bucky was innocent, it still didn’t change that Steve had lied to him. To hide things as important as his parents’ deaths.

Besides, he wasn’t Iron Man anymore. He didn’t need to be in touch with the rest of the Avengers.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony found a haven where he always had one: his workshop.

Before everything, before Iron Man, before being a billionaire or the face of a company, he was an inventor.

So he did what he was best at: burying himself in his work to the extent that he stopped existing outside of what he was creating.

And it was easy. Peaceful. No gray areas or tough decisions. Here, he called the shots and was confident in them.

Sure, FRIDAY had to remind him to eat and sleep. He never claimed it was healthy, but at least it was therapeutic.

He might’ve seemed crazy to an outside eye. The talking to himself and the bots, the pacing and the calculations, the growing pile of coffee cups on the table.

But he felt safe, surrounded by the things he built.

That had been part of the appeal of the Iron Man suit. He knew everything about the suit; his hands had worked on it; his mind had envisioned it.

But the danger of the suit hadn’t been the suit itself.

It had been Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I've really been enjoying writing this, so let me know what you think! :)


	5. Chapter 5

It was no surprise that Pepper was the first one to come knocking.

Or, technically, override the lock on the workshop door.

Tony barely looked up. Maybe if he didn’t acknowledge that she was there, she would go away.

The incessant clicks of her heels grew louder.

So much of Pepper could be characterized by the sound of those heels.

Stubborn. Confident. Powerful.

A woman who knew what she wanted and knew how to get it.

A woman who needed so much better than an over-hyped mechanic.

The clicking stopped and Tony knew that words would be coming next. He knew he should excavate his face from the depths of the machine he was working on, and give her his attention. He should listen.

Correction, he should’ve listened a long time ago. When Pepper had warned him about the whole Iron Man thing. She may have been saying it because she was concerned about him, but she should’ve been concerned about the whole world.

“Tony.”

Did you know it doesn’t take longer than a couple months to forget someone’s voice?

A long pause, and then an annoyed huff of air.

“Tony, what is going on?”

Tony tried to fight the automatic instinct to reply in an offhand manner. He really did. But this was _Pepper_ and he already felt too exposed. He couldn’t do this.

“Nothing much, Pep, what’s been going on with you? Being CEO treating you well?”

His voice bounced around in the metal confines of the project in front of him.

“Nothing much? That’s all you got for why you haven’t been seen or heard from in three weeks? Why the media has practically been knocking down SI’s doors? Why Happy has been telling me to ask you about some kid named Peter? Why _Steve Rogers_ has asked me where you are? I swear to God, if I get a phone call from Nick Fury—can you _look at me_?”

Tony started laughing. He couldn’t help it.

He pulled his face out of the machine and fell back in his chair, chuckling.

“What is so _funny?”_

She looked just like he remembered, not a stray hair out of place from her ponytail. She stood tall in all white (_God, he loved her in white)_, with her signature red lipstick.

Her raised voice did nothing to disturb her composure. It was as if the Mona Lisa had just started yelling. Pristine yet unnerving enough to make anyone listen.

Anyone but Tony, of course.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been chewed out by you, is all.” Tony said, nonchalant. He took advantage of being in a chair to roll over to a different table, setting down his wrench, his back to Pepper.

Pepper ignored the comment and squared her shoulders.

“Tony, where have you been?”

Tony outstretched his arms, gesturing to his workshop.

“You’re looking at it, Pep. I’ve been here.”

Pepper looked around, and to her credit, she only looked slightly disdained at the mess that had become Tony’s life.

“I’m seeing that. But why?”

Tony shrugged. “It’s not anything different than what I usually do.”

Pepper was speaking before the sentence was out of his mouth.

“You haven’t done _anything_ like this before. Not only are you gone from red carpet events, but _Iron Man_ is MIA from the Avengers, R&D hasn’t heard from you—”

“Is that what this is about? SI? You didn’t have to come all the way down here for that. I’ll get you some blueprints and then you won’t have to worry about me. I’ll be out of your hair.” Tony could add that to the list of sentences that he regretted as soon as they came out of his mouth.

Pepper’s eyebrows came together and she looked at him with so much pity that he wanted to rip his hair out.

“Tony, I’m here because I care about _you_, not the company.”

Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Do you really think—,” Pepper began, but Tony cut her off, standing up and facing her.

“Yes, I really do! Pepper, look at me, look around you! _Really_ look.”

Pepper opened her mouth to retort, but then closed it again as she actually saw him.

“You’re dirty,” was what she began with.

That was a fair assessment. Grease and ash covered a large portion of his body, and he couldn’t really remember the last time he showered.

Pepper’s eyes took in the workshop, in all it’s distasteful glory. Tony found beauty in it, but hardly anyone else did. And finally, she came across the mostly empty display on the back wall.

“The suits…” she said, her voice low, as if she was telling Tony a secret.

“Gone. I was done with them,” Tony said, looking at her heels. Those gorgeous heels.

“What do you mean, ‘done with them’?” Pepper asked.

“I mean, I don’t have a use for them anymore. No more suits. No more Iron Man.” Tony said. He was confused by the sudden lump in his throat.

For once, Pepper didn’t seem to know what to do or say. That lasted about ten seconds.

“But…what about the Avengers?” she asked, uncomprehending.

“They’ll manage. They have some new players. And the Accords not working out is probably for the best. They’ll do better without me dragging them down anyways.”

A silence followed where Pepper continued to stare at him and Tony looked everywhere but back at her.

“…This isn’t about us, is it?”

A flash of pain seared it’s way across Tony’s chest. If it was up to him, him and Pepper would still be together. Her organized, methodical ways would balance out his unruly, chaotic energy.

But she had left. She did what she was best at: the right thing.

_I can’t, Tony. I can’t watch you almost kill yourself in that suit every day. And I know that it’s a part of you; I know that it’s a package deal. But I can’t live my whole life being scared for you. _

Now, the suits were gone and Pepper was essentially asking, _Are you trying to get back together?_

But it was better this way. Tony was self-destructive at best, and Iron Man had just been a decent channel for it. It hadn’t been the suit that enabled him to get close to being killed, it was Tony. And Pepper deserved better than to be with that again.

“There isn’t an us, Pep. You were right. It just wouldn’t work.”

Pepper blinked a couple times, and then gave a curt nod.

Tony took the chance to give her a graceful exit.

“Well, if that’s all, I’ll go back to working. I’ll send the blueprints over to R&D whenever I’m done.”

Pepper sighed, her shoulders inching away from her usual upright posture.

“I really didn’t just come down here because of SI, I wanted to know—,”

“I know. It’s the least I can do for letting that team of monkeys flounder for so long. Thank you for stopping by, Ms. Potts,” Tony said, the name feeling wrong on his tongue.

Pepper offered him a sad smile. “At least try to get outside once a day? I’ve heard Vitamin D does wonders.”

Tony picked up the wrench again, the weight of it grounding him.

“No promises,” he said, his signature smirk making a quick appearance.

“FRIDAY?” Pepper asked.

“I’ll do my best, Ms. Potts.”

Pepper nodded again, and turned to leave. She paused by the mountain of empty coffee cups before adeptly sweeping them into a trash can, no doubt a practiced move from her time as an assistant.

Tony listened as those heels clicked away, signaling the exit of most important person in his life.

He should’ve said something, anything.

_Don’t leave._

_I don’t know what I’m doing._

_How did you manage me for so long?_

Instead, Pepper hesitated at the doors, before turning to address him.

“I’ll be in touch,” she said, gracing the room with a soft smile. And then the door opened and she was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

The next couple weeks, Pepper kept her word.

Every day, Tony either got a call from her or an email. She didn’t talk about anything major, mainly just about the media or anything going on with the Avengers. She’d email him articles that tried to explain his disappearance.

Tony noticed that she didn’t send him anything that mentioned Iron Man, just Tony Stark.

She’d also send him invitations to galas or red-carpet events. Anything that would give him a chance to make a public appearance.

She forwarded general news about the happenings in the world. Tony was grateful for it, more than he realized. He hadn’t let FRIDAY keep him up to date on news because he didn’t want to hear about Iron Man. He also didn’t want to know about the muggings, the shootings, the crime going on in the city. He was scared he would take it upon himself to take action.

Pepper seemed to know this, somehow. She really was a miracle worker. She knew what Tony would and wouldn’t want to see, and sent it accordingly.

Talking to her wasn’t as weird as he thought it would be. In fact, it was great, having her in his life again.

There was an unspoken agreement that things would remain strictly platonic, and Tony was okay with that. Pepper acted as an eye in his hurricane, allowing him to see the calm through his world being turned around. He would take whatever he could get.

Tony completed his project: legs for Rhodey. Rhodey was getting physical therapy and he had braces for his legs, but Tony wanted to give him better ones. It’s the least he could do.

And as he delved deeper and tried to find more ways to facilitate life for Rhodey, he realized how undeveloped the market for handicapped items was. He could fix that. So, he sent the blueprints for the higher tech leg braces to R&D and got working on other things. Nanotech hearing aids (he had been fiddling with a nanotech suit; it would be a shame if it went to waste), AI headsets for the visually impaired, false limbs.

And as he worked and perfected, he realized that maybe he couldn’t be Iron Man. But he could do this. Make the world better in other ways.

Tony Stark wasn’t a hero. But he could still invent stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a great time writing this, please let me know what you think! Thank for reading :)


	7. Chapter 7

Happy was the next one to knock on Tony’s door, two and a half weeks after Pepper’s visit.

And Happy actually had to knock, because he didn’t know the overrides.

Tony let FRIDAY open the doors and was immediately met with a stream of words.

“Tony, this kid has called me every day, and he’s a sweet kid, but I swear, he’s getting to my last nerve and I—,” Happy broke off his tangent as he saw Tony.

“Um. You look terrible.” Happy said, as honest as always.

Tony chuckled and ran his knuckles across his unshaven face. He had always been so particular about his facial hair, but that kind of went out the window too.

“Thanks for sugarcoating it for me.” Tony said.

Happy gave a shit-eating grin accompanied by a shrug.

“So, the kid?” Tony asked, remembering the reason for Happy’s rant.

His smile immediately contorted into a grimace.

“He calls me every day, sometimes two or three times. And the _voicemails_, don’t get me started! Look, Tony, he’s a good kid, but it feels like we kind of just left him high and dry and he kind of—,”

“Forward them to me,” Tony said, not really sure where the idea came from, but it was out of his mouth before he could really think about it.

“What?” Happy asked, incredulous.

“You heard me. I want to hear all of them. In fact, call him.” Tony said. He didn’t need to hear the voicemails to know what had been going on. He had been keeping an eye on the suit’s whereabouts, and the suit’s AI had been giving him regular updates. Nothing too personal, just health stats. The only thing that seemed off was that he hadn’t used the suit in a couple of days.

Happy froze for a couple seconds, as if he forgot how to use his limbs.

“Tony, I think there’s something—” Happy started.

“Happy, I can deal with talking to the kid. It’s alright.” Tony tried to reassure Happy that Peter wasn’t a nuisance to him. Happy still hesitated before he hit the few buttons to call Peter.

Tony took over the phone. It hardly rang before there was an excited voice chirping in his ear.

“Happy? Do I—Is there something I’m needed for?”

Tony smiled at the kid’s enthusiasm.

“Sorry to disappoint, kid. Just me,” Tony said. He heard a sharp intake of air and a scuffling sound that sounded suspiciously like the phone being dropped.

“Mr. Stark! H-hey, what’s going on? It’s been a while. And uh…I thought you were supposed to be a little bit missing?” Peter half asked, half said, stumbling over his words.

“Well, I’ve never been very good at doing what I’m supposed to. How’s the suit holding up?” Tony asked.

“Great, it’s perfect, Mr. Stark! No complaints,” Peter said, a little too quickly. Tony’s eyebrows drew together.

“Oh really? Your nightly patrols are all good?” Tony asked.

“Yep, I uh—I webbed up some dude who tried to steal someone’s purse last night. The neighborhood is all peachy.” Peter said. The kid wasn’t a bad liar.

“Oh, did you now? Because from what I can tell, the suit hasn’t been used in a couple days,” Tony replied, casually. He was met with dead silence.

“Kid, it’s okay if you don’t like the suit, we can make it better—,” Tony started, but Peter’s rambling cut him off.

“No, no, Mr. Stark, it’s great! Or, it _was _great.” Peter said. Tony could practically feel the waves of anxiety through the phone.

“What do you mean, was?” Tony asked, suddenly very concerned. Up until now, Tony had just thought there was something wrong with the suit.

“Well…I—I know you told me to keep low, Mr. Stark. And I tried, I really did! To be the ‘friendly neighborhood Spider-Man’ or whatever. But then there were these people with guns, but they were like…_alien_ guns! Did you know there’s a black market for the tech those alien dudes left behind during the Battle of New York? And I was going to tell Happy, but then there was all the stuff about you being missing and I really didn’t want to bother…”

Peter kept talking, but Tony’s heartbeat was thumping so loud in his ears that he could barely hear what the kid was saying.

He had put the kid in danger.

He had been wallowing in…what? Self-loathing? And the kid had been dealing with _illegal alien weapons?_ And _of course_ the kid would go after them. Tony had facilitated him with a suit that would allow him to. And it’s not like there were any other superheroes around.

“And then one of the guns went off on the boat and cut it in half! And the suit had these really helpful webs, and I managed to hold it together long enough for all the passengers to get off, but the suit tore and wasn’t really usable…”

Tony felt nauseous.

The kid was _fifteen._ And Tony had used him in a fight and then left him.

How was he any better than the people who had used him?

“So, I had to use my old suit when I tracked the Vulture guy down—,”

“You went after a guy with illegal alien guns in _pajamas?”_ Tony asked indignantly. He didn’t know why he was mad; it was his fault after all. He turned to look at Happy, who was trying very hard not to meet Tony’s gaze.

“I know I shouldn’t have, but I had to stop him! He was trying to hijack a jet full of Stark Industries stuff, and he could have hurt a lot of people.”

Tony was sure he was going to have a heart attack. He had to lean against the wall in order to brace himself for what he knew was going to be the answer to his next question.

“Kid, I’m praying the answer is no here, but…was there any point that you were on a jet, fighting this guy, _thousands of feet in the air_, in nothing but a onsie?”

There was a slight hesitation, that had more answers than Tony knew what to do with.

“It’s not a _onsie_, Mr. Stark. I mean, it’s not high tech, but it was something. And we made it to the ground eventually! It all turned out fine, I left the jet for Happy and made sure the Vulture guy got taken away.”

Tony closed his eyes, suddenly fighting a pounding headache.

Happy had known.

The kid had been putting his life on the line, cleaning up Tony’s messes, and Tony hadn’t even been aware.

Because he had been “missing”.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that, kid. It’s not alright. I should’ve been there.” Tony said, pushing through the feeling of his throat closing up.

“I know you would’ve if you could’ve, Mr. Stark. You were busy doing stuff, I get it,” Peter replied, and his absolute naivety made Tony want to start crying, right then and there.

“No, Peter, I wasn’t. I just…I haven’t been keeping tabs like I should. I’m so sorry.” Tony apologized, his voice getting rough.

“I…it’s not a big deal, really. You’ve been going after people way more intense than that. It was my turn to take care of one of the big guys.” Peter reassured him.

But Tony was not placated, not in the least.

“Listen, we’re going to fix up that suit. How about you come down here next week so you can try it out and tell me anything that needs adjusting?” Tony asked. It felt cheap, that all Tony could give Peter was a better suit.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

“Yeah, sure, that sounds great, Mr. Stark. I’ll let Aunt May know,” Peter said, eager. It made Tony feel worse, that Peter could forgive him so easily.

“And I’m going to text you my number. From now on, call or text that number for anything you need.” Tony said, determined not to be left out of the loop again.

“Woah, really? Are you sure that you’re not too busy w—,”

“I’m sure, kid. Seriously. Anything you need.” Tony was desperate to make it up to the kid.

“O-okay. Thanks, Mr. Stark.” Peter replied in awe.

“Anytime kid, see you next week.”

The call ended, and Tony immediately texted the number to the contact labeled “Kid”. While he was at it, he forwarded all the voicemails to his own phone.

Tony let the phone rest in his hands for a couple seconds before turning to face a guilty-looking Happy.

“Why didn’t I know?” Tony asked.

Happy met his eyes uneasily.

“Pepper told what was going on with you. She told me that you’d only blame yourself. We didn’t know the full extent of what was going on until we found the jet, and by then…well, there wasn’t much to be done.”

“Damn right, I’ll blame myself. He was—_is_ my responsibility. I pulled him into this Avengers crap and I need to make sure that he stays out of it now. He’s a _kid_.” Tony said, his eyes burning, as if tears were threatening to spill from his eyes.

“I know he’s a kid! You think I wasn’t mortified when I found out? _I’ve_ been getting his voicemails. His updates. I should’ve been checking in with him and I wasn’t! Not until after all the stuff with the Vulture happened.” Happy seemed just as incoherent as Tony felt.

Tony didn’t realize that Happy probably felt very much in the same boat as him. The kid needed them, and they both couldn’t—didn’t—deliver.

Tony couldn’t rely on other people to inform him about what he should be keeping up with. He couldn’t keep locking himself in his workshop.

It was time to stop hiding.

“FRIDAY, tell Pepper to schedule a press conference for tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir. Is there any particular subject you wanted to talk about?”

“I’m coming back.”


	8. Chapter 8

Tony could already hear the murmuring of the reporters and the test flashes of the cameras.

He adjusted his tie again.

He had been here before, so many years ago, when he walked out on stage and told the world that he was Iron Man.

How things had changed since then.

He heard her heels clicking and turned to greet Pepper.

He wanted to be angry about her hiding what happened to Peter. But how could he get mad at her for dealing with what should’ve been his responsibility anyways?

Purple and black was her ensemble of choice today. She stopped a couple feet away from him.

“You clean up well,” she said, smirking.

As always, she was right.

“It’s a miracle what a razor, a shower, and a suit can do for a man,” Tony said smiling, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” Pepper asked, serious.

Tony nodded. It was one of the few things he had felt sure about since Siberia.

“Did you even plan what you were going to say?” She inquired further, raising an eyebrow. Tony scoffed.

“You know I didn’t. I’m offended you even asked.”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

The reporters began to reach a lull in conversation, marking the transition from waiting around to anticipation.

Pepper met Tony’s eyes. “That’s your cue.”

Tony took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He squared his shoulders and strolled through the curtains.

Blinded, immediately, by a wall of flashing cameras.

Tony put on an easy, practiced smile as he made his way to the microphone.

He waited for some of the shuttering to die down before speaking.

“What’s all the hubbub about? Is someone important here?” Tony joked effortlessly.

It drew a few laughs, but they weren’t here for a failed attempt at comedy.

“So…elephant in the room. It’s been a while. I want to say that I missed you guys, but I’ve heard lying isn’t good for the soul.”

A couple more laughs.

_Get on with it, Tony._

“I—I actually have a bit of news.”

A couple of the reporters visibly moved to the edge of their seats.

“I’m not sure if you remember, it wasn’t a crazy big deal or anything, but a couple of years ago, I announced that I was Iron Man.”

He was met with nods and the tightening of fingers on pens in anticipation of the next bombshell.

“Today, I’m here to tell you that Iron Man is, effectively, dead.”

Pin-drop silence, for half a second. And then…

Chaos.

Absolute chaos.

Shouted questions, shouting in general. The shutters of the cameras reached a fever pitch.

He had to wait quite a few minutes before he had any hopes of being heard.

“Just a reminder, I will not be taking any questions, so I will try to answer any potential questions that may arise.”

The reporters seemed to grumble and somewhat settle in their seats again.

“I, or anyone else, will no longer be using the Iron Man suit. From here on out, Iron Man no longer exists. Why did I make this decision? Well, I’m sure many of you knew from day one that Tony Stark’s ability to be a hero is questionable at best. I just came to the conclusion a little later.”

Tony swallowed away his dry throat. As uncomfortable as he was right now, it was also relieving. To rid himself of the “Where’s Iron Man?” question.

“And no, this is not about the Accords. I signed the Accords because I wanted to have liability in my actions. But I began to realize, if I wasn’t already holding myself liable, did I really deserve to be a hero? The answer is no. With everything going on in the world, in the _universe_, there’s no room for gray areas. And I was one big gray area that needed to be cut out.”

The more Tony spoke, the more his tongue loosened, and he felt strangely relaxed. He never knew he could feel so at ease while being candid with the media.

“It’s fair to ask, what will I be doing now? Well, I think the only thing about me that has not had controversy is the fact that I’m an inventor. And that’s what I’m good at doing. That’s what I will continue to do. Soon, Stark Industries will be launching a line of affordable, high-tech products that will facilitate the lives of handicapped individuals. I may not be a hero, but I can still try to make the world a better place with whatever I invent.”

For once, the reporters seemed intrigued enough to just listen, instead of crowding towards the front and yelling questions at him.

“And finally, something that will probably be running through everyone’s head is: what about the Avengers? Who’s going to be keeping the people safe? Don’t worry, the remainder of elite or genetically advanced individuals are still intact. In fact, I’m sure there will be some new faces. I have faith that they will protect you guys. And I’m here to contribute my technology in any way I can.”

Tony found that he had pretty much said everything he wanted to say.

“Thank you for your time. From now on, I am just Tony Stark.”

Tony turned his back to the immediate uproar behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

The first place Tony went after the press conference was to Rhodey.

Tony thought it would’ve eased something in his heart to see Rhodey in the legs. To know he was compensating for what was partially his fault.

Instead, he was just more acutely aware of what Rhodey had lost. Seeing Rhodey struggle to adjust to….to this. These machines that blatantly couldn’t fix what had happened.

Rhodey tried to assure him, _They’re great, Tony. Really. Thank you._

But it was hard to believe him the third, fourth time he fell.

As Tony helped him up, he found his mouth racing to try to keep up with his brain.

“I’ll keep working on them, try to make them more intuitive. I may be able to—”

“Tony.”

“—try nanotech? Did I tell you I’m messing around with nano—”

“_Tony.”_

Tony turned to see Rhodey, who was still clutching his arm for support.

“You don’t have to fix this. This isn’t on you.” Rhodey said, his voice much calmer than what seemed acceptable. Why wasn’t he _mad_? Or disappointed, even?

“What’re you talking about? I got you into this mess, I’m not going to just…let you struggle.” Tony replied.

“Shit happens. Do you know how many people I saw in the army end up dead or in wheelchairs, or in some state of disability? Part of taking a stand is accepting the fallout that comes with it.” Rhodey said, as if it were that simple.

As if everything they knew hadn’t been torn apart.

And Tony _couldn’t_ fix it. He couldn’t invent anything that would put everything back how it was. Before the Avengers were torn apart. Before the Accords. Before he and Pepper…

It would never be how it was. When he had Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, a _team._ When he was so confident in who he was and what he was supposed to do.

Tony felt an ache in his chest not unlike the one he got when he had watched Stane pull out his arc reactor.

“So, are you going to talk about it?” Rhodey asked, snapping Tony out of his reverie.

Tony stared at him blankly, not comprehending. Rhodey rolled his eyes.

“Not being Iron Man? Where’d that come from, man?”

Tony looked away. He wasn’t sure how to talk about this with Rhodey.

How could he talk about walking away from it all when Rhodey had just given his legs to try to make things right?

“Are you alright, Tony?” Rhodey asked. Tony barked a laugh.

“Am _I_ alright? You shouldn’t be asking me that, it’s not about me right now. What I did wasn’t hard. If anything, it was long overdue. I’m worried about _you._” Tony replied.

Rhodey shrugged.

“I’m fine. Sure, it sucks. It’s different. But I was just doing what had to be done.”

“I am too,” Tony replied, off-handedly.

“Are you?” Rhodey asked, tilting his head.

Tony looked at Rhodey, _really_ looked at him. This was the same man who had saved his ass time and time again in college. He had been there after his parents were gone, and when Stane fucked him over. Loyal to a fault, and so good at…being good. No matter the cost.

“I’m tired, I guess. I’m tired of having the right intentions and just…not executing it right. I’m tired of people getting hurt because of me. I’m tired of trying my best and it still not being enough.” Tony said, his voice fading to a whisper.

Rhodey’s hand found his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“Tony, you’re a hero whether you’re in that suit or in a lab. You can do both, you know.”

Tony shook his head. “I’m done with it. I really am.”

Rhodey just nodded.

“Hey, uh. After you’re done with PT, do you want come stay at SI? That way I can…anything you need, I’ll be able to make it,” Tony asked. Rhodey gave a sad smile.

“I’m guessing being War Machine again any time soon isn’t an option?” Rhodey asked. And Tony finally saw the pain that he had been apprehensive about. Of course, Rhodey would be most upset about not being able to help people.

Tony’s immediate response would’ve been to say _no, don’t go anywhere near that suit again._

But he knew Rhodey needed this like he needed his inventions.

“It’s not impossible, with a few modifications” Tony gave.

Rhodey let out a breath of relief, trying to mask it as a cough.

But Tony knew better. He knew that they both felt empty when they weren’t making a difference.


	10. Chapter 10

“Sir, Steve Rogers is in the building.”

Tony looked up from the experimental web shooter he was working on for Peter.

Well, at least he had some warning for visitor number three.

He couldn’t say he was really surprised that the press conference would have Captain America bouncing through the doors within the same day.

He could almost feel Steve’s presence before he was at the door.

A lot of people thought that being around Captain America would be as if George Washington himself showed up at your door with an eagle on his arm.

To Tony, it was like being around the person he could never be.

And it would help if Steve was a jerk, or extremely self-righteous (well, that one he was a little guilty of), but he was kind. Selfless. So Tony could see why Howard had idolized him, why he wanted Tony to be like him.

And every day had been a sore reminder that he couldn’t. It didn’t help that Rhodey’s crippled image was still fresh in his mind.

The whole thing with the Accords and Siberia was a blessing in a way. Steve had finally done something selfish. Something that would justify why Tony was more flippant in his conversations with Steve than with anyone else. Tony finally had reason to hate him, just a little bit.

“Do you want me to let him in, sir?”

Tony shrugged halfheartedly, turning away from the doors. Tony didn’t really want to have to look at him.

“Sure.”

The hiss of the door unlatching was followed by light, but sure footsteps.

Figures that the dude would be 200 pounds of muscle, and still be as silent as a feather.

“Nice of you to drop by,” Tony said, pressing a button on the web shooter. The web arced through the air and fell to the floor. It didn’t go quite as far as Tony would like.

“I hope you’re not busy,” Steve greeted, his voice resonating in the room. Tony fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“If I was, would it change your mind about being here?” Tony countered. Steve huffed some air out of his noise in the resemblance of a chuckle.

“I’m afraid not.” He replied.

Every conversation with Steve had this…awkward tension that Tony could never place. It was as if the two had been squaring up to fight before they had ever met. It put Tony on edge, made him snappier.

“Then what do I owe for the pleasure of a visit from good old Captain America?” Tony asked, his words dripping with snark.

“You know damn well why I’m here,” Steve replied. Okay, no more dancing around the subject.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sounded upset,” Tony replied, still fiddling with the webshooter.

_Damn, if only I could make this out of nanotech._

“Of course I am! You can’t just give up on being Iron Man,” Steve interjected himself into his thoughts.

Tony pursed his lips.

“I think I just did. Besides, I thought you’d be ecstatic,” Tony replied.

_Wait, why can’t I just make it out of nanotech?_

_I could give the kid a nanotech suit. He’d be way safer._

“Why would I be happy about there being less protection for people out there?” Steve asked, his voice raising, not really in volume, but in intensity.

Tony wanted to be done with this conversation.

“You said it yourself, _Captain_. I’m no hero.” Tony retorted.

He made his way over to a sealed cupboard that had his nanotech samples in them.

“So you’re just going to turn your back on people who need you?” Steve was relentless.

Steve was asking about it in a much more accusatory way than Rhodey had. Immediately, Tony could feel his defenses rising.

“I’m not turning my back. I’m putting my efforts toward something that I’m better at. I can _invent_ things. I can make things for you guys, too. Keep you all sharp out there.” Tony replied, holding a test tube up to the light.

“Is this about what happened in Siberia? Listen, Tony—,”

Something inside Tony snapped. He whipped around to face Steve.

“No, Steve, _you _listen. I’m not like _you_. This hero thing doesn’t come naturally to me; it never did. Me being in that suit was a _mistake_. In Siberia, when I saw that video, I was furious at you and Bucky. I felt exactly how they _wanted_ me to feel. I don’t want to be a tool in anyone else’s game, and the only way I can make sure that doesn’t happen is if I’m not even a player.”

Steve icy gaze met Tony’s heated one. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again.

“I wanted the Accords, but it wasn’t until later that I realized that I wanted them for _me._ I’m constantly terrified of making the wrong move, and I thought…I thought I would be better if I wasn’t calling the shots. The problem I had was never with the system, it was with myself.” Tony turned around again, putting his hands on the table for support. It felt like he had deflated.

Steve stepped closer to Tony, and Tony’s body wanted to recoil. He saw a flash of white out of the corner of his eye.

Tony turned to see Captain America, with his perfectly combed hair and steely eyes, holding out a handkerchief.

All Tony could really do was raise an eyebrow.

“You’re bleeding,” Steve said, nodding at Tony’s hand.

Tony looked down to see that he was, in fact, leaking blood from his left palm. Sometime during his rant, he had broken the test tube. And now there was nanotech scattered across his lab.

“Damn it,” Tony said, begrudgingly taking that handkerchief.

_A goddamn handkerchief._

_Probably from World War Fucking Two._

_I need a drink._

“So, no more Iron Man?” Steve asked.

Tony squeezed the cloth into his palm. “No more Iron Man. I wouldn’t have done it if I thought it would be a huge loss. We know there are others.”

Steve nodded. “Like Ant-Man, or Sam.”

Tony nodded, trying not to think about the fight with them. Specifically, Rhodey falling through the air, stuck in a hunk of metal that he had designed…

_I need to give the kid a parachute._

“Or the kid from Queens.” Steve suggested, as if he could read his mind.

Tony shook his head. “Off limits.”

Steve gave a small frown. “He was good, had heart.”

“He’s a kid. It was shitty enough for me to pull him into it once. But make him an Avenger? I don’t think so.”

Steve nodded, giving up that topic.

“What about Bucky?” Tony asked. His mouth still felt sour when saying the name, but he had to get over it, eventually.

“He…He’s somewhere safe. I know the Accords fell through but he’s not exactly anyone’s favorite person right now. He still has a long road to recovery.” Steve replied, a faraway look in his eyes.

Tony just nodded, looking down at his hand. It was still bleeding, just not as much.

“Is that for the kid?” Steve asked, gesturing at the webshooter Tony had abandoned.

Tony found it slightly amusing that everyone somehow ended up referring to Peter as “the kid”.

“Yeah, it needs some work though. I’m thinking about experimenting with some nanotech,” Tony said, awkwardly pointing to the puddle on the ground that used to hold nanotech.

Steve scrutinized Tony for a second.

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you? Making stuff for other people?” Steve asked. For the first time, Tony didn’t feel threatened by him.

“I’m serious about making stuff for people who will use it to do better than I could.” Tony replied. He picked up the webshooter to consider it again, but mainly just so his hands could have something to fiddle with.

“And you don’t mind?” Steve asked. Tony wanted to yell at him for finding it _so_ hard to believe that Tony could be selfless about this. But when Tony looked up to do so, he found that Steve’s face was completely open, genuinely curious.

“No, I don’t mind. The kid’s…well, a _kid_, and he has a better moral compass than I do. What gives me any right to have all the fancy tech when there’s people out there who could do better with it?” Tony replied. Steve’s eyebrows pulled together and something played across his face that Tony couldn’t quite catch.

“I think…you don’t give yourself enough credit.” Steve responded, his voice barely loud enough to bridge the space between them.

Tony suddenly found the webshooter very interesting, and his fingers went into overdrive as he disassembled it.

Not a few weeks ago, he and Steve had been at each other’s throats.

Now Steve was…complimenting him?

The only thing Tony could really think to do was change the subject.

“You need any upgrades, Cap?” Tony asked, still refusing to look up from the webshooter.

“There’s nothing wrong with my suit,” Steve said.

“I didn’t say there was. I’m asking if you want anything else.”

Steve chuckled, causing Tony to look up at Steve.

He looked tired too.

“Am I missing the joke? I thought that was your thing,” Tony half-heartedly jabbed.

Steve glanced at him, and turned his head away, leaving Tony only with an impression of those baby blues.

“I—part of me thought that I might be shot on sight if I tried to come in here,” Steve said, “but instead, you’re asking if I want my suit upgraded.”

Tony’s brow furrowed.

“I want to help—”

“I lied to you. I hurt you. Why do you still want to help me?” Steve asked. And super soldier or not, he suddenly looked small.

Tony found himself remembering Stane again. He could feel the acidic burn of his betrayal, the realization that he had only cared about Tony for what he could do.

Tony put his hand over the arc reactor to smother the phantom ache.

Steve’s betrayal was different, but almost worse. Because Steve hadn’t been using him. He didn’t have an ulterior motive when he had been Tony’s friend (had they ever been friends?). They had been a _team_, maybe even a family. And it was after all that when Steve decided to lie to Tony.

So what if it was because Tony had deserved it?

What if there was just something about Tony that made people feel the need to lie to him?

Was his ability to make rational decisions that fragile of a thing?

“It’s not about me, or how I feel. It’s about who can protect the people who can’t protect themselves.” Tony said.

“What makes you so sure that you’re not one of them?” Steve asked.

“Like I said…like _you_ said. I’m no hero.” Tony said, softly.

Steve’s face fell, and it was almost unfair. He shouldn’t look remorseful for Tony.

“I…Tony, I said that before I even knew you.” Steve said. He had shifted so that he was right in front of Tony, as if trying to drive his point home. Tony was suddenly having a hard time breathing.

“Well, you were right.” Tony managed.

“Or, I was very wrong.” Steve persisted.

Tony sidestepped Steve, trying to get some fresh air. Well, as fresh as he could in his lab.

“What’re you trying to get at, Cap?” Tony said, his voice suddenly harsh.

“I—I just…you did _good_ as Iron Man, Tony. I don’t want you quitting because you believe otherwise,” Steve said, with_ something_ in his eyes that Tony couldn’t quite place. Conviction? Persuasion?

Guilt?

And suddenly, it slammed home for Tony. Of _course. _Steve wouldn’t be here for _Tony._ He would be here for himself, to ease his mind.

“Are you sure? Or do you just want to make sure that I’m not quitting because of _you_?” Tony asked.

Steve fell silent, blinking at him. Tony couldn’t deny that it felt good to have shut Steve up. It spurred him to keep talking.

“I think you’re just here because you wouldn’t have been able to deal with the weight on your pretty little patriotic conscience if _you_ had killed Iron Man. Right?”

“That’s not—"

“Don’t worry, _Cap._ It takes more than a few lies to sway me. You can sleep easy at night.”

“Tony—”

Tony could hear the blood rushing to his ears, and the all-too-familiar feeling of losing control of his lungs.

_No, no, no, not right now_

_Not in front of him_

Tony barely registered the feeling of his knees hitting the ground. His vision tunneled and his heart was beating so fast and there were too many _thoughts_—

_Stane’s cold, poisonous hands on his arc reactor_

_Pepper packing up her things_

_Peter laying on the ground, a little too still…_

Tony tried desperately to push the thoughts out of his head, to breathe in something resembling a regular pattern, tried to concentrate on the sight of his hands splayed out in front of him.

He was acutely aware of Steve kneeling beside him, and he should be embarrassed but he was too busy being _terrified—_

_His suit shutting down while he floated in space_

_“You could’ve saved us”_

_The distant explosion, eerily beautiful but moving fast. Closer, and closer…_

_“Don’t waste it. Don’t waste your life.”_

_He had closed his eyes._

_“When you can do the things that I can, and you don’t, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.”_

And there was something about remembering Peter’s voice that helped. Something so innocent, so warm, that the other thoughts couldn’t touch it.

Tony fumbled for his phone, and he couldn’t _find _it, _where was it_

A hand appeared in his line of sight; his phone held in it.

Tony looked up to lock eyes with Steve for a second. _Soft._ He had almost forgotten he was there but _his lungs were screaming_ so he tore his gaze away to grab his phone.

The tears (_tears?) _in his eyes blurred the screen but he found what he was looking for

"Hey, Happy! Or, Mr. Stark, or, uh, whoever’s listening to this. I know I already gave my daily update but, um…I thought another one couldn’t hurt?”

And Tony closed his eyes, and listened. He shut everything out, except the kid’s voice.

“Honestly, it’s crazy how many people actually try to rob little old ladies. It seems like it would just be in the movies, right? But I swear, it happens like _every day!”_

Tony could feel his heart relaxing a little, and his breathing sounded less rattle-y. He slowly became aware of the hand on his back.

“And they all always try to give me one of the caramel melt things, the ones that are surprisingly good? I took a couple extra because I think Aunt May is going to cook tonight. Maybe I should just save the trouble and get takeout?”

Tony found it in himself to open his eyes. He still wasn’t breathing evenly, but the worst of it had passed.

Now he just felt tired.

“Anyways, let me know if you need me for anything! I uh…I could probably help, y’know.”

_Yes, you can, kid._

Tony eased himself against the wall, pulling himself away from Steve’s hand in the process.

Shit. Steve.

Panic attacks were hard enough on his own. The last thing he wanted was for anyone, especially Steve, to see him having one.

It took much more energy than it should have to meet Steve’s eyes. He had put a safe amount of distance between them. As expected, his eyebrows had practically pitched a tent, his eyes resembling a pool of concern.

Tony didn’t have the energy to initiate a conversation, or to even try to unpack what had just happened, and Steve didn’t seem to know what to say, so they both stayed quiet.

It should’ve been uncomfortable. But compared to the waves of anxiety that Tony was still riding out, it was peaceful.

The silence was only broken by a stuttering whir. Tony made the effort to turn his head to see DUM-E, in all his 3 feet of glory, holding out a cup of water.

And Tony started laughing.

It was strange how the damn thing worked when he needed it most.

Tony reached out and patted the arm before taking the water, still chuckling.

He saw Steve’s face crack into a smile from the corner of his eye.

Steve waited until Tony had drank the water before beginning to speak.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked.

Tony waved off his concern, not really in the mood for comfort. Especially not from Steve.

“I’ll be fine. I should…um. Probably sleep or something. Y’know. _Alone.”_

Steve nodded, accepting the not so subtle way Tony was kicking him out. He pulled out of the crouch he was in, before stretching out his arm in an offer to help Tony up.

Tony looked at Steve’s hand, and had a feeling that taking it would mean a lot more than just being able to stand. He couldn’t bring himself to accept it.

“I’d uh…rather just stay down here for a while.” Tony said, lamely.

Steve’s brow furrowed, but he dropped his hand,

As he began to walk away, Tony felt that same itch, the one he had felt when he had been watching Pepper leave, the need to say _something._

This time, his mouth moved of its own accord and he did.

“Thank you,” Tony said. Steve turned, his hand on the door, and Tony felt a little dumb. “For uh…for getting my phone.”

Steve nodded his head at Tony’s phone screen, still lit up.

“He really means a lot to you, huh?” Steve asked.

Steve had this ability to look at somebody but really look _through_ them. Like he could see every secret, every thought. And it was usually unnerving, but right now it felt…cleansing. Like it was Judgement Day and Tony had nothing to hide.

“I guess he does,” Tony responded. He knew he had a soft spot for the kid, but he hadn’t been aware that it extended beyond wanting to provide for him. The kid had literally brought him down from a panic attack.

Tony almost missed how Steve’s face softened.

“I really was wrong, Tony. No matter what you believe,” Steve let his eyes linger on Tony’s for a moment/eternity before leaving.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking out this work! Let me know what you think :)


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